I wrote an article with Peter Leithart a few years back for Touchstone Magazine which you can find here, in which we argued that the book of Job provides a curriculum, a template of sorts for how God loves to grow His people up into maturity, particularly a maturity that is increasingly drawn into the presence of God, a maturity that is able to stand before God, to speak with God, to know God as a friend.
God is the original Principal of the School of Hard Knocks. God beams over His servant Job and sends the Accuser to trash his life. God beams again with exuberant, fatherly pride, and lets the Accuser cover Job’s body in boils. God is apparently still beaming as He lets three backstabbing friends show up, complete with Bible verses, showy religious rituals, and ultimately a Russian novel’s worth of accusations and lies.
Job cries. Job curses. Job explodes in tirades of righteous indignation. Job prays with the vehemence of the Psalmist. He argues. He defends himself. He starts blogging and opens a Twitter account and starts blasting the media, the tar and feather crew outside the royal estate, and all the hate and smear blogs popping up all over the kingdom. The climax is often misunderstood, but when God shows up in the whirlwind, this is not the cosmic smackdown it is frequently described as. Yes, God is glorious and wonderful and transcendent, and Job is a puny ant with a righteous bad attitude. Absolutely. But the thing that most commentators miss is the fact that God has a huge fatherly smile on His face. God is not upset with Job. God says at the end of the story that Job was right! Job is vindicated, justified. God says that Job threw a holy tantrum, and well done, my boy, well done.
As we noted in the article, the way into the storm-presence of God was through the storm of calamities and enemies and arguments. God is the great wrestler, the great fighter, and He runs the universe and plays with Leviathan. God plays with weather systems and in His free time wrestles dragons. And like the faithful father that He is, He wants His beloved sons to grow up to rule the universe like He does. He wants His sons to play with dragons too. And so He sends little dragons, little snakes to attack and tempt and try His beloved sons, so that they can learn to wrestle, fight, and tame them.
It’s a generational temptation to get bored with the old battles, but this is wrong. The particular fronts may change, the hottest spots of the battle may shift over the years, but fight we must. And this leads me to my point: I picked up Shane Claiborne’s Irresistible Revolution the other day. And the thing that ticks me off in the first chapter is the fact that he doesn’t want to fight. He’s tired of fighting. Now I don’t know the man, and I’d be happy to find him a gracious brother doing a lot of good in the corner of the Kingdom Jesus has called him to.
But he says at the outset that he wants to tell stories about his experiences because “stories disarm us.” He explains: “It’s hard to disagree with a story, much less split a church or kill people over one. And certainly no one hurts others with the passion of those who do it in the name of God, and it’s usually over ideologies and doctrines, not stories. Besides, people seem to loosen up after a good story. I think that’s why Jesus told so many stories…” (IR, 28) To his credit, he does note in a footnote that of course occasionally Christ’s stories could incite a riot, but Shane is quick to assure his readers that he will “stick to stories that disarm…” (IR, 28)
Now, people are complex, complicated, and God works wonders through our internal contradictions. I don’t have any problems assuming that piles of Christians I disagree with on a plethora of issues are and will do great good for Jesus and we’ll party down at the resurrection together. I’ll drink to that any night of the week. It’s called grace, and God’s grace is ridiculously liberal. But the immediate temptation is to then go all pacifist and throw up our arms and wonder if it’s really worth all the trouble. If God is so full of grace, shouldn’t you be a little more gracious and just be nice to everyone, someone asks in a particularly snarky tone in their Facebook status… hmm? Hmmmm?
Well yes, I’m all for graciousness and kindness and generosity, but some folks seem to have gotten the idea that those fruits of the Spirit are opposed to the armor of God or the sword of the Spirit or the war that Jesus is currently engaged in in history. Jesus gives peace, and He came to make war. Jesus was cool with saying both things, and so should we. We are warriors and peacemakers, and if you think that’s a contradiction, take it up with Jesus.
Shane may be doing great work for the Kingdom, but he says he’s written a book full of stories meant to disarm, meant to avoid fighting, avoid conflict, avoid too much passion that might end up getting someone hurt or (horrors!) splitting a church. And then he has the audacity to point out that Jesus’ stories were actually sometimes different, or if we actually look at the gospels, almost always different. Jesus told stories in order to bring blindness, deafness, and harden hearts.
In other words, Shane is writing (ironically) to offer a shortcut to holiness, a shortcut to maturity. He says he’s after the real thing; he’s tired of youth group charades and evangelical mediocrity. He says he just wants to do what Jesus said to do. But then he tugs his collar and clears his throat nervously and reminds everybody that we don’t actually want anyone to get hurt, especially not their feelings. We’re certainly not trying to get anyone too worked up about any ideas or doctrines. But stories are sexy. Living in cardboard boxes next to homeless people make for fabulously gritty stories. This is a perfect spirituality for a video game generation, for a Reality TV culture, for people addicted to pornographic orgasms. Even if we take him completely seriously and believe his reservations about his celebrity status, Shane still ends up as the star of this Alternative American Idol. You can get all the stimulation and release of the real thing without as much trouble, without as much pain, and certainly without all the struggle, fighting, arguments with real live people. Just stories, dude, just stories that make you laugh and cry.
Well I’ve got a story for you: it’s about a Jewish man who claimed to be God and walked into his church one day and started one of the biggest church splits ever. He made people so mad that they eventually killed him and most of his followers got killed for proclaiming that he was right and that God had raised him from the dead and offered complete forgiveness of sins to all who trusted in Him. And yes, that message includes love and grace for the lost, the hurting, the broken, the suffering, the lonely, the homeless, the dying. And yes, in so far as American Christians live comfortably without care for the hurting and lonely around them, God damn our selfish arrogance.
But when Shane says he finally found Christians in Calcutta, I’m getting ready for the Indie music to start playing and the credits to start running because that’s about as cheesy and bromantic as you can get. Again, I’m not saying Shane planned this all out or consciously cares a ton about how many followers he has on Twitter. He probably doesn’t care, but whether he realizes it or not, he’s playing the part really well.
I’m all for mercy ministry, missions, loving the unlovely but only in the name of the Jesus who I know, the Jesus who picked fights, mocked Pharisees, drove money changers out of the temple, and invited enemies to the same table. By all means, befriend the prostitutes, the drug addicts, the homeless. Invite them into your home, love them, serve them, give generously, sacrificially, but only do it in the name of the One who is actually conquering the cause of all that brokenness, the Son who suffered to learn obedience, the Beloved Son – the greater Job – who throws down, who wrestles, who fights, who argues, who crushed the head of the dragon in His agonizing death for our sins and has inherited glory.
Otherwise, it’s like you work long hours for the burn unit of the nearby hospital during the week and you’re a freelance arsonist on the weekends. But we serve the God who is committed to destroying all arson in order to eradicate the need for all burn units. And until the last enemy is destroyed, we are soldiers, warriors, and sons learning to wrestle, struggle, fight, argue so that we might grow up into Jesus, grow up into maturity, to stand before God, to speak with Him and to know Him as a friend. And we do this so that there will be peace, wonderful, glorious, overflowing peace, and a party to end all parties. But as one your own prophets has said, you gotta fight for your right to party. And Shane doesn’t want to fight.
Matthew N. Petersen says
I haven’t read the book, but when he says he found Christ in Calcutta, I hear “in Bl. Teresa of Calcutta and her Missionaries of Charity”. Is that his point?
Ron Dodson says
great stuff, Toby
liam obrien. says
Excellent post! Thanks for opening my eyes to that perception of Job. I’ve been studying it recently and the “Proud Papa” view on it is an interesting one. I’ll have to re-read in light of it.
Thanks so much,
liam.
elisabeth says
This was easy to read…..i read this post like someone thrashing brush in the wildreness!!!!!. Such an encouraging and refreshing post. Thank you and Thank the Lord for your words that help me get perspective over and over again.
elisabeth says
thanks
Gregory Soderberg says
Well said, Toby. I admire much of what Shane, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, and other “new monastics” are doing, but often it seems like liberalism in Christian dress. I’m more familiar with Wilson-Hartgrove (since he lives in Durham, NC, in our neighborhood), and his views on homosexuality, the death penalty, and war, are all quite liberal. I’m sure he’d be the first to say so. Problem is, they are doing some wonderful things, which should challenge us to maybe do more “loving the unlovely” than theological wrangling. Reformed folks have got the fighting down pretty well, but we’re not known for our love (contra Jn. 13:35).
Jason says
Ooooh this is good. Hot fire!
Matthew N. Petersen says
Also, if he’s pointing to Bl. Teresa as a model, wouldn’t it be fair to say that he believes in fighting, but in fighting differently than you seem to? Not everyone is called to be a prophet.
Toby says
Yes, he is referring to Teresa, and yes, I agree that not all are called to prophetic fighting, but that doesn’t alleviate his responsibility for the kind of followers his rhetoric is likely to attract. That’s my main point.
Matthew N. Petersen says
I’ll take your word that that’s your intended main point. But that isn’t your main point as the article is presented. Your article is very clearly about how Shane doesn’t want to fight. And in your second to last paragraph, you come very close to saying that he’s preaching a false Christ.
Thus in your article when you state your point, you say “And this leads me to my point: I picked up Shane Claiborne’s Irresistible Revolution the other day. And the thing that ticks me off in the first chapter is the fact that he doesn’t want to fight. He’s tired of fighting.”
And you conclude with “And Shane doesn’t want to fight.”
But that is simply a mischaracterization of his position, based on a weak equivocation. Do you honestly think Bl. Teresa wasn’t fighting in the name of Jesus? That she wasn’t struggling with Jesus to end real enemies? That she wasn’t fighting for Jesus? Do you honestly think that when Shane says that he doesn’t want to fight he means that he won’t struggle with Jesus against His enemies by going to the inner city, and fighting his enemies? Do you really mean that he isn’t in the inner city fighting dragons? Or do you mean that he’s fighting dragons in the name of a false Christ, and thus not fighting, but aiding and abetting dragons (as your penultimate paragraph insinuates)?
The thing is, he’s fighting, but he’s objecting to militaristic tactics. It’s almost as if he were Elrond saying that we can’t overthrow Sauron by fighting, or Frodo, saying that he isn’t going to fight; and you’re objecting that we need to end the reign of Sauron, we need to fight.
Well, yes, in one sense we need to fight. And in that sense, Frodo was the greatest warrior, because he overthrew Sauron. But in another sense, we may or may not need to fight–we may or may not need arms. Frodo was right to not give battle, because he wanted to win. Frodo was right not to give battle, because he knew how to truly fight.
And I think the same thing applies here. Shane isn’t against fighting, he’s against giving militaristic battle. He thinks the way to fight is to be a martyr, nor to be a warrior.
And for that, you need a considerably more nuanced interaction. It sounds to me like there are some problems with his vision. He seems to lack a deep ecclesiology, and a deep sacramentalism. But I for one find little in an equivocation to recommend itself to me. So he wants to heal the divisions in Christendom? Sounds like Dr. Leithart to me.
Gregory Soderberg says
Hi, Matthew:
Have you read this book?
Matthew N. Petersen says
I have now read enough of it to know his general point. I can’t interact in detail with his methods, and I suspect I would have some qualms about much of them. Wanting to give up fighting isn’t the problem. He wants to change the tactics of the fight, and perhaps change the (immediate) enemy. But he is still in favor of fighting.
He may use language of giving up fighting, but since his point is about going out and fighting for the poor (though not through activism), it is a mischaracterization to say he’s against fighting.
We could even argue that he has, either the wrong tactics, or the wrong enemies. Those are real objections. But he isn’t against fighting. He just has different enemies and tactics than we generally do.
It might be true that he somewhat invites the criticism by his language which calls for an end of fighting, but, as my last post showed, it is important to note that he isn’t against fighting God’s enemies, but that he’s against a militaristic struggle against God’s enemies.
If Elrond had told Borromir “Our victory cannot come through fighting, we must stop fighting, stop struggling, and take the road that is neither surrender, nor battle” his words would be perfectly intelligible. We only reveal that we are Borromir when we object that we must struggle to overthrow the dragon, and so we must fight.
Frodo joins the ranks of Beren and Turin and all the mighty elf-friends of old, not through fighting, but by not fighting, and only thus, overcoming.
The point of the book is that we should “fight” more like Frodo, and less like Borromir. We may disagree, we may say “yes, some people should fight like Frodo, but some of us are called to fight like Aragorn.” We may reply “Yes, but you’re missing the real enemy.” There are lots of legitimate replies. But, “you’re against fighting” is not one.
As my last comment clearly shows.
Gregory Soderberg says
Shane was one of the key speakers at the Wild Goose Festival here in NC, a big gathering for the Emerging church. Here’s a link that gives a good sense of where this movement is going:
http://muddystreams.wordpress.com/2012/06/27/wild-goose-droppings-2/